


cereal boxes

by orphan_account



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, quick thingy, rated t for a bad word or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were trying to reach for a box of cereal and a whole shelf’s-worth of cereal boxes fell on you here let me help” au.</p><p>Idea found on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cereal boxes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A super quick thingy. Found the prompt on tumblr. This is dedicated to my wonderful beta, Sparks80. Despite its shortness, I hope you enjoy it, lovely. To my cool readers, hope you enjoy xoxo.

            The world is over, Delphine is certain.  It’s five-thirty in the morning on a Monday and her hand is grasping nothing but thin air.  There’s a space between her Raisin Bran and Special K.  She checks the pantry and despairs a second time in two minutes.

            “ _Merde_.  No backup?  What an idiot,” she mutters, stalking back into the kitchen and grabbing her purse and keys.  This is why she wakes up earlier than needed.  For emergencies like running out of cereal.  She can’t just have a bowl of Raisin Bran instead – the deadline for one of her papers is today and she needs to be, as the Americans say, on top of her game.  Raisin Bran does not do that.

            Delphine pauses briefly at the mirror by the door, checking that her hair is in order.  When she started her first graduate semester at Dyad University, she lost count of how often her classmates asked for hair styling tips.  She felt bad when her answer of “I just um, run my fingers through it?” didn’t seem to satisfy them.  She does so now, her curls soft to the touch.

            She pulls her black jacket on and hurries to her car.  It’s as she starts it that she realizes that her favorite local grocery store won’t be open for another two hours.  Cursing, she does a quick Google search and picks the only one open.  A chain store, one she’s never been in before.  She hopes to god it has _the_ cereal.

            The drive is short, a little frantic.  Surprisingly, there are several cars in the parking lot.  Maybe it’s an American thing to shop for food at five-thirty.

            Delphine jumps out of the car and enters the store.  It smells vaguely of tacos and she wonders if that’s a warning sign.  Nonetheless, she pushes onward.  Most of the checkout stations are unmanned.  One bored teenager is playing on his phone at station seven, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone else.  Delphine scampers by the boy, not missing the way he looks up from his phone and stares after her…  Creeeeeeeeeeepy.

            She reads the aisle signs, but really they’re about as useful as a bike in a NASCAR race, so not at all.  Delphine passes five before seeing another person – a brunette girl – and it happens to be the cereal aisle!  She turns and begins perusing the boxes, looking for her beloved brand.  Out of the corner of her eye, she spots the other girl further down the row, stretching to reach a box on the top shelf.  The shelving is unnaturally high.  Delphine is tall, and she can tell that she’d have to work to reach the top shelf.

            Just as she decides to help the brunette, who has now resorted to standing on the bottom shelf, there’s a loud yelp and the entire top shelf unhinges and all the cereal boxes careen forward.  It doesn’t help that the girl slipped and fell and is currently buried under twenty-some boxes of…  the cereal brand Delphine has been looking for.

            The blond hurries over and picks up a pair of black glasses that had skittered along the linoleum.  The pile of boxes moves and the girl stands, face redder than the cereal boxes.  “Are you alright?”

            “Yeah, but oh my god, that was totes embarrassing.  I can’t believe that just happened.  I shouldn’t be surprised; I have terrible luck.  Like, normally, the chances of something like that happening to someone else is like, one out of a million, but with me, it’s like one out of twenty.  Oh, hey those are my glasses.”

            The brunette is squinting, rather adorably Delphine thinks.  The blond jerks into action and fumbles with the spectacles, eventually holding them out.  Now that she’s closer, she can make out more details about the girl.  Details like her dreadlocks and freckle on her cheek and a nautilus tattoo and several bracelets.

            “Are you sure you’re okay?  That was… quite something.” Delphine tries, really tries, but the giggle that follows slips out anyway.  Her eyes widen and she covers her mouth.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I don’t mean to laugh.”

            “No, dude it’s totally fine.  Wait, not dude.  You’re not a dude.  You’re like, a total babe.”  The girl blushes more, if possible, and rubs at her temples.  “Oh god, this is so not my day.  Of course I’d make a fool of myself in front of a beautiful woman.”

            Delphine smiles at her, utterly charmed.  She sticks out her hand, gazing down.  “I’m Delphine.”

            The brunette looks at her hand, surprise clear on her face.  She collects herself and grips Delphine’s hand firmly.  “Cosima.”

            “ _Enchantée_ , Cosima.”

            “French?”

            “ _Oui_.”  Delphine leans lightly against the remaining shelves.  “I’m a graduate student at Dyad.”

            “No way, me too!”  Delphine thinks Cosima has a beautiful smile.  “What are you studying?”

            “Immunology.  You?”

            “Evo-devo.”

            It takes Delphine a second to understand.  Americans use such confusing words!  Before she can ask another question, the teenager from the cashier interrupts them.

            “Are you going to pick these boxes up?”

            Cosima takes an aggressive step forward, which Delphine thinks is an impressive feat since the brunette is dressed in a short, patterned dress.  Though Delphine hasn’t the foggiest idea why…  at five-thirty in the morning.  “Look, pal.  I’m pretty sure you get paid to clean up around here.  These boxes need cleaning up.”  Cosima holds up a hand when the boy starts to protest.  “Ever heard of the phrase ‘the customer is always right?’  It applies to this.”

            He snaps his mouth shut and swivels around, his ears red.  Delphine meets Cosima’s eyes, “You’re such a brat!  That boy is going to get the manager and we’ll have to pay for all of these.”

            Cosima laughs, loud and free, uncaring.  “Then we better leave before he comes back!”

            Suddenly, Delphine finds a warm hand around hers and she’s being tugged down the aisle and around the corner, down another row.  “Cosima!” she whispers, unable to prevent the smile tugging at her lips.  Her heart is racing and she’s not sure it has anything to do with the possibility of getting caught.

            They pass through swinging doors posted with a sign that says, “Employees Only” in large letters.  Delphine sees blurred boxes as they jog through the storage room, only Cosima’s dreadlocks in focus.  A minute later, they burst through a door and the cool, March air hits her in the face.

            Cosima’s grinning, wide, and open.  “I thought you were going to trip back there.”

            Delphine is breathless, gripping her purse tightly in one hand, Cosima’s hand in the other.  “I cannot believe-!”

            “What, never run from the scene of a crime before?”  The smirk is almost too much for Delphine to take, almost.

            “I’ve never even witnessed a crime before.  France is very um, how do you say?”

            “Chill as fuck?”  Cosima shrugs.  “I spent spring break in Paris my senior year in undergrad.”

            The blond is so off kilter, she just stares at this girl before her.  After a minute, she smiles and brings their hands up, poking Cosima’s cheek affectionately.  “You’re very cheeky.”

            “First I was a brat, now I’m cheeky?  You keep insulting me and I’ll think you’re coming onto me.”

            Delphine blushes, furiously, and clears her throat, steals her hand back tucking it in the jacket pocket.

            “Oh god, I mean, you’re probably not and it would totally be my bad luck again.  A ridiculously attractive _French_ woman?  Way outta my league, man.  I can hear my twin Sarah already.”  Cosima is talking very fast and Delphine struggles to keep up, not even thinking to stop the poor girl.  Her voice changes, presumably mimicking said twin, “‘Bloody hell, Cos.  You’re so smart, but you can’t put it to good use and actually be smooth about pickin’ up a gal.’”

            Delphine laughs, removing her hand from its pocket and placing it on a strong forearm.  “Cosima, do not worry.  You definitely have the um, moves.”  She fumbles with her purse and pulls out her pack of cigs.  “Would you like one?  It’s very French to smoke after a jogging like the one we just did.”

            Cosima drags her eyes up from where they were staring at the stick between Delphine’s lips.  “Did you just say…  A jogging?”

            She smiles lightly, embarrassed and aware that her English is off.  “Maybe,” she mumbles.

            Cosima nods, “Okay, just checking.  But no, thanks.  Just pot for me.”

            Delphine is not surprised.  The girl – no, woman, really – seems the sort.  “Fitting,” she exhales.  She coughs when she notices a familiar red box tucked under Cosima’s arm.  How had she missed that?  “Cosima?”

            “Hmm?”

            The blond gestures towards the box.

            “Oh, yeah.  Well, that guy was such a dick, and I really wanted some, so.”  Another shrug, so careless, yet graceful.

            Delphine brings the cigarette to her lips, not missing the way curious hazel eyes follow its path.  “I came here looking for the exact brand.”  She leans closer, feeling like she’s playing with fire.  “I’m a little annoyed that a brat like yourself managed to _steal_ a box while I came up empty-handed.”

            Cosima’s lips are curled up and she closes the distance more.  “This brat was going to offer some, but it would be very unbrat-like for me to share.  And I hate disappointing.”

            Delphine purses her lips, trying to fight a smile.  God, she can’t stop.  She checks her phone and – “ _Oh mon Dieu_!”  In all the excitement, of meeting _Cosima_ , she’d forgotten her class.  “I’m due for class in thirty minutes!”

            “At six-thirty?”

            “Seven.  I’m meeting with my professor about a paper.  But I have to dress and eat and-”

            “Woah.  Calm down.  If you leave now, you should be good.”

            Delphine hesitates, though she’s unsure (read: unwilling) to wonder why.

            “Here, I’ll give you my number and we can meet up for coffee or something.  Talk about crazy science.”  An iPhone with a DNA cover is thrust at her and Delphine takes it, entering her number.

            “I’ll text you, okay?”

            “Right, hot French woman,” Delphine smirks.

            “I’m pretty sure it was _beautiful_ , but whatevs.  Totes the same thing.”  Cosima rolls her eyes and shoos her.  “ _Go_.”

            Delphine leans forward, bracing a hand on Cosima’s bicep.  She places a kiss on either side of the brunette’s face, the second one so close to the corner of her mouth.  “ _Au revoir_ , Cosima.”

            “Yeah, _ciao_ ,” Cosima mutters, dazed.

            Delphine giggles and turns back to her car, not even bothered that she didn’t get her cereal.  She just made a friend in the brave new world.


End file.
